Finn Grows Up
by Ithitsallonitsown
Summary: This kid's been down with delving dungeons, mashing monsters, and saving peeps for as long as he can remember, but swinging a sword won't help him deal with growing up. Lucky for him, Marceline's got the perspective to see him through. But what will all this growing biz do to the way he sees his rockin' vampire pal? And PB's got something cookin' that's gonna sham Finn's wow.
1. Chapter 1: 'Nother Day, 'Nother Dealio

Finn Grows Up:

**AN:** Hello all of you fan-fictiony people. This is my first foray into the whole fanfiction biz in quite a while, so I hope y'all will like this trek into uncharted waters. I decided I'd make a start with something close to me, and Adventure Time definitely fits that bill. It's something that I feel I have a good grasp on in terms of thematics and characters, so I hope you'll enjoy this interperitation. This is going to be a long one, if I have anything to say about it, and I'm not really sure how updating is going to be, but I'll try to give it to you guys on the regs, especially if you like it. Enjoy!

-ithitsallonitsown-

Adventure Time!

Come on, grab your friends,

We'll go to very, distant lands.

With Jake the Dog, and Finn the Human,

The fun will never end.

It's Adventure Time!

In the land of Ooo, at the heart of the grasslands, a plethora of sweet breakfastey smells floats across the low, rolling hills. Birdsong fills the air as the sun breaks the horizon, casting its warm rays across the hills, turning the lingering gloom of dusk into long shadows, where that night would hide until midday banished it completely. They painted the side of a solitary obstruction in the uniform landscape, a thick, ancient tree, tingeing trunk and bough with soft, warm color.

"Hey Finn! Are you up yet?" Jake grumbled, using mondo-stretching to juggle several items around the stove. "If you don't quit bunkin' around you're gonna miss breakfast! Get it goin' homie!" The dog had always been an easier riser, but it was so strange to see his normally overcharged bud all lazylike. Kid must be getting' older, the dog thought.

Up in the room above, muffled grunts emanated from a bundled up lump lying on a bed. The smell of the food, combined with the soft song of the birds and the gentle rays of light slipping through his window, was slowly but surely winning the fight against the last wisps of sleep. The bundle turned over once. It grunted more, and then turned again, before finally cracking in half to reveal a form of pale skin and a mess of what could be confused with finely-spun gold. Finn the Human smacked his lips, stretching his arms out over his head before feebly attempting to rub the sand from the corners of his eyes. After a little bit of absent staring, he cast his eyes out the window, wincing a bit as his eyes adjust but otherwise enjoying the sight. A faint, groggy smile curves his lips. That view would never change, and he hoped it'd never grow old.

Shaking his head once to try and dispel his lingering lethargy, Finn left his bed, stretching again from his toes to his fingertips, yawning loudly. "Oh _math_…" he moaned, feeling things pop along his back and neck. It seemed that there were always little pops and aches here and there, these days. Usually in the wake of some bump or thump he had received in antics the day before. Finn had no problems with that though. Pain was just pain. He was _tough_, and wouldn't let a few waking pains slow him down.

More than the way he woke up had changed, as the days rolled on. Twelve had become thirteen, then fourteen. Five came into six, and six had now recently become seven. Seven would eventually become eight, but all that future jive wasn't big in Finn's brainpan. He just kept his head in the now, like he always did. So what if he was doing some shifto-changeo deal? Growing boys grow, and that didn't bother Finn a bit. He still had his hero heart, and that was all that mattered.

"Fiiiiiiinn! Come on buddy, it's done and it'll be cold if you don't move your buns!" Jake called, his tone growing more impatient.

"Hold your llama buddy, I'm on my way!" Finn shouted back, slipping out of his PJs and putting on some daytime clothes. His blue shorts had gotten too small years ago; he slipped into a pair of denim jeans, before tromping down the stairs. His shirt could wait till it was time to head out, but Jake, and his stomach, didn't wanna.

Down in the kitch, Jake was done juggling, and had already started digging in. "Take a seat Finn, before I eat your grub for ya!" the hound joked, scarfing down a sausage. "We've got sausages, scrambled eggs, grilled cheese, and just for you, I made ya some sautéed mushrooms and peppers and… Ah… Veggie stuff."

"Veggie stuff?" Finn asked curiously, taking a seat. "We don't usually have lots of veggie stuff. What gives?"

"Finn, I'm a dog. Too much veggie stuff is bad for my gut," Jake said between mouthfuls. "But you're a human, and you need plenty of veggie stuff to stay healthy. You hated it, so I always hid 'em in things you actually liked, but now that you're getting' all grown up and stuff, you gotta take it on your own."

"Hey man, watch it! I ain't no grownup!" Finn protested, but he was met with Jake's 'really'-look. The human boy relented, at least a bit. "Alright fine."

"Don't worry 'bout it bromie," Jake said in reassurance, stretching over to bump Finn on the arm. "Growin' up ain't so bad. Sure you gotta give up some of your little-kid fun, but you get all new grown up fun to replace it! And in the end, you're still you; you still like the same kinda stuff, you just find it in different places."

Finn's smile turned up for the brighter, bumping his buddy back with a little leaning. "Thanks bro," he said. "You always know how to set my mind right." With that, the two chowed down on their breakfast feast.

After a bit, Jake comes up for air, and to say, "Man, yous got some long arms."

After their munching was complete, the best buds in Ooo moved to the couch to play B-MO while they decided what to do with their day. "Man, I still think we should go see if PB's got something for us. We haven't heard from her in _mad_ long."

"Ehhh…" Finn replied, screwing up his face as he attempted to maneuver his game-guy around Jake's fireball attack, screwing up his face a bit more when he was only partially successful. "I dunno. Peebles said she'd be pretty busy these next few weeks. Don't wanna muck up her science biz, ya know?"

"Yeah, I guess… Haha, now I've got ya. Putrid Cloud, _hwatcha_!"

"Wha!?" Finn exclaimed in surprise, before groaning as his character coughed on the nasty green fumes, till his health dropped to zero. "Aww butts! That spell's no fair, you can't move out of it!"

"Yeah, well that'll show ya not to keep usin' that cheapo transmoogler hex, the one that turns ya into a cat!" Jake countered.

Finn was unrepentant, if his mischievous grin was anything to tell by. Regardless, their banter was interrupted by a whistling tune coming up the ladder. Marceline the Vampire Queen came floating up into the scene, waving her fingers at the couch-riding homies. "What up, y'all?" she asks, floating up over them with her legs out beside her, like she was reclining on a couch. The way-rad rocker vamp was wearing a pair of black jeans tucked into big black boots with big shiny buckles, and a red tanktop with a big gold flower printed on the front. Her hair was in a simple tail behind her head, her pale arms were covered by long gloves, and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat topped her head.

"Oh heya Marcie," Finn responded casually, waving back. Jake waved too, but he was mostly still occupied with B-MO. "Not much, just trying to plan some rad shenanigans. I wanna do a dungeon romp, but Jake wants to visit Princess Bubblegum and see what she's up to."

"Man that was just one idea. I just don't wanna do somethin' mega gutbustin'. My gut's still tired from gettin' all busted by that rock golem we fought yesterday." Jake protests, as he fiddles on with B-MO. Marceline snickered with amusement.

"Aww, cheer up little pup," she said, drifting over to an easychair in the corner, which she draped herself across. "I'm down to stick around, and be your chum while you rest your tum. And in a bit, I'm gonna mosey over to a spot where I think you'll fit right in, Finn." She looks quite pleased with her rhyming self.

"Yeah, that's cool," Jake says, smiling at his friends. "I gotta meet Lady later anyways, so it's all good if you guys wanna do somethin' without me."

Finn pops up off the couch, two fists raised way, way up. "Sounds way poppin', Marcie," he says with his usual cheerful enthusiasm.

Marceline eyes Finn then, a bit surprised, but then smirks with her usual mirth. "Groovy," she says, before floating off the easy chair towards the last Human, head first with her chin resting on her arms, like she was lying on a bed. Her nose came to a halt a few inches from Finn's. "Zany guns, by the way," she says to him, her voice filled with teasing glee as she poked his chest with one finger. "Been getting' all buff n' stuff?"

"Huh? N-nah man, my guns are just… Y'know, my guns!" he stammers out in response. He hadn't thought someone'd be showing up, or he would've gotten dressed already.

Marceline laughed a bit, floating around him. "Yeah, sure thing hero-boy, but I think you're gonna want something with a little more cover if you're gonna go handle some biz with me later. Unless that's just what they make armor out of these days."

"Y-yeah… I'm gonna go do that," Finn said, beating a quick retreat to his room, his face flushed and his ears hot. Marceline just chuckled, settling into his spot on the couch to ham it up with Jake.

"Man, that kid never changes, does he?" she reminisced, as Jake finally gave up fiddling with B-MO.

"Oh no, Marceline, you don't know the half of it," the little computer said, hopping up to his feet. His screen bears a conspirator's grin. "Sometimes, when he is asleep, Finn dreams about all the adventures he's had. He does not say anything, but B-MO has his ways of knowing."

Both Marcie and Jake gave B-MO a stumped look. The computer simply puts his hands behind his head and walks off. "B-MO has his ways," he insists. The two he left behind just shrug at each other.

"Yeah, growin' up can be rough for him sometimes, but he's still all good. That's Finn for ya, ain't nothin' gonna bother him so long as his friends are good, and he can go out adventurin' and stuff." Jake stretches his arm into the kitchen to grab some juice. "I ain't really worried. He's gonna have to figure things out on his own; I'm a dog, don't really know too much 'bout how humans grow up. But that's what he's always done, so I think he'll be alright."

"Word up, pup."

Back up in his room, Finn pulled his hoodie over his head. Like the shorts, he'd outgrown his shirt, backpack, and his beloved hat, but with a little help from Ragdoll Princess, he'd made a rockin' hoodie of the same color, with his old hat as the hood, and in lieu of the old backpack, he had a green messenger bag, with special loops for swords on the side. These days, Finn mostly relied on his trust Root Swords; the shorter one he had used when he was younger, and a longer one, made for his big-boy self.

"_Man, what was that biz with Marcie teasing about my guns?"_ he wondered to himself as he pulled on socks and shoes. _"I mean yeah, they've gotten all stiffer and kinda lumpy, but… Am I really all that different from before?" _He scratched at the spot where his vampire friend had poked him, on the left side of his chest. The skin tingled oddly.

He thought about it for a few more moments, before shrugging it away. _"Eh, I'm sure it's just Marcie. Don't think too hard on it man, you ain't too good at thinking anyhow. Just stay rad."_

The last human smiled, nodding to himself as he slid his Root Swords into place before rumbling down the stairs. "Alrighty ma'am, we are down to jam!" he exclaimed, pulling his bear-hood up over his head. "So what's it gonna be Marceline? Minotaurs? Gorgons? Minotaurgons!?"

Marceline chuckled, always amused by her friend's unending enthusiasm. "Nah, none of that weaksauce. We're going for the big time, baby." Finn's cheer visibly multiplied, and the vampire queen couldn't help but feel its infectiousness. Being around Finn was like standing in the eye of a hurricane made of excitement, altruism, and gratuitous physical violence. "You, my dear hero-boy, are gonna help me find a bass. Not just any bass though."

"An extraordinary bass, huh? What's so math about it?"

"Well, if what my wad of an ex's journal said is correct, this particular bass has strings wound from the beard of Thoros, a powerful Forge-Titan, who lives in a volcano. The journal also said that if you can beat Thoros in a rock-off with it, he'll craft you an artifact of unimaginable power… And, you know, awesome free bass strings for life. Dude's got a mondo-beard."

Finn shifted into his 'somehow dramatic basic deduction mode'. "So you're saying that if I help you find this bass…"

"And if you help me melt his face off with some killer tunes…" Marceline continued.

"…Then he'll give you plenty of beard-strings, and he can make me a romp-whompin' sword!" Finn pumped his fists in excitement. "This is munchin' awesome!"

"You got it," the vampire said, exchanging a high-five that was truly righteous. "Now let's boogie baby, I wanna get there before the sun gets too bright."

"You bet, Marcie! It's _Aaaaaadventure Time_!"

With that, the two paid momentary goodbye's to Jake, and off they went on a shiny new quest.


	2. Chapter 2: Road Warriors

**AN:**

Well hello again everyone. All I can say is that the reception for the first chapter was awesome. This whole thing is still in a pretty nebulous state for me, so I hope you guys only enjoy it more as things mature.

Your feedback sustains me. I crystalize it, and then drink it as an invigorating mist.

GIVE ME MORE.

**Road Warriors**

"Ooh, we're gonna get a bass. We'll get that bass and Marcie's gonna play it real fast and then I'll get a crazy sword… Oooh, I'll get a crazy sword when me and Marcie use her bass to make the titan work his forge!"

Marceline chuckles, amused by her snaggle-toothed traveling bud's limericks. She wasn't about to tell him that his rhyme didn't quite work, since bass was pronounced 'base'. No need to ruin his fun. "Wow Finn, you're awful pumped about this," she says, floating along down the road. "I mean, more than you usually are."

"Well, I'm adventuring," Finn says, trotting along with a massive grin plastered across his face. "That's always a good thing. And I'm hanging out with you. It's been _crazy_ long since we had just Finn and Marcie time."

The vampire nods her head, looking around. "Yeah, I was actually trying to remember the last time it was just the two of us hanging out, but nothing really came up. There's almost always someone tagging along, like Jake, or Bubblegum."

"Mmhm. And more pals is always nice, but there's just something about doin' stuff with just you and someone else that's different," Finn says. "It's like… Kinda like parties. Exactly like parties. Partying is math and all, but it's not the same as just, you know, hanging out. Too much noise and stuff to really be soul-bros with somebody."

His vampire friend raises one eyebrow curiously. "Soul-bros?" she asks.

"Yeah, you know! Soul-bros. Lots of people can be bros. Heck, even Ice King is my bro, in a really weird, 'I beat you up for kidnapping people' way. But not everyone can be a soul-bro. You've gotta be bros... With each other's _souls_. And trust me Marcie, that ain't no jive. Soul-bro-ship is serious biz, ya dig it?"

"Heh, oh don't worry hero-boy, I think I can dig it," Marceline says. "Am I a soul-bro?"

"Well yeah, of course you…" Finn stops for a second, his feet coming to rest as he thinks more about his answer. "Are? Well… Jake was my first soul-bro, so our broship is kinda what I base it on. He's a soul-bro, PB is a soul-bro, B-MO is a soul-bro too…"

"Oh come on, Finn! I woulda thought that I'd be at least as big a bro as _Bubblegum_! That's just insulting." The undead rocker feigns an insulted pout, before her stoneface breaks with a snickering laugh.

"H-hey! Come on Marcie, you're totally as big a bro as PB!" Finn protests, yet there is still uncertainty and confusion marking his face. The gears turning in his head are almost audible. "Just… I dunno, it's different! PB is really cool and all and I trust her a lot, but she also has me do lots of stuff for her, really important stuff to help lots of people. I'm like her go-to-dude, I guess. And, well, I live with Jake and B-MO. I know all kinds of mondo-weirdo stuff about 'em, and they know all sorts of mondo-weirdo stuff about me. I don't know so much about you… But I really trust you anyways. Cause you make me feel like the mondo-weirdo stuff isn't so mondo-weird… And you've never got huge stuff for me to do, like PB. I feel like I can just… Stop when I'm around you. Like stop being Finn the Big Honkin' Hero for a while, and just be… Well, Finn."

Marceline rolls her eyes, reaching over to press a silencing finger to Finn's rambling lips as she floated around to face him. "Yeah, I think the word you're looking for is comfy, hero-boy. Don't gotta put some whacky title on it. Jake is Jake, B-MO is B-MO, Peebles is Peebles, and I'm me. And that's all she wrote."

"Huh… You know, I think you're right. Soul-bros sounds kinda stuffy anyways."

Marcie eyes Finn with mild confusion, as the two resume their pace down the road. "Well then why'd you use it?"

"Oh no, that was Jake's idea. Say, where are we going anyways?" The last human looked about; the treehouse was already just a shape on the horizon behind them, with the tall northern spires of the Ice Kingdom looming up above them, still a ways off.

"Well, according to Ash's journal, Thoros lives deep under the Ice Kingdom, where he stokes his forge on the fires of Ooo's core. The bass is his greatest creation; so great, he knew when it was finished that he'd never forge anything more perfect, so he locked it away, so he could keep working his forge without having to see proof that he was past his prime. It's at the top of the mountain, a place so frigid that he'd never be tempted to go and see it," Marceline explains, pointing to the tall range before them. "That one, right there. See the one with smoke coming out of its sides?"

Finn scanned the direction that Marcie's finger indicated, but couldn't locate it. "I'm not seeing it," he said.

"Look, it's right there. Right there!" Marceline pointed again, jabbing her finger in the air.

Finn slowly shook his head. "Nope. Not getting it."

"_Ugh!_"

Finn was very vaguely aware of Marcie moving, at full vampire speed, directly behind him, when suddenly soft, cool fingers pulled down his hood and set themselves on either side of his face. Then, with gentle but irresistible strength, his vampiric friend forced his head to move where she wanted it to, to the left a little, and then up some. "Come _on_ baby-face," she implored. "Don't tell me those blue eyes ain't got any shine. It's right over there." She leaned on over him, pressing up against his back as she braced her arm on his shoulder, her pointing finger laid directly along his line of sight. "See it?" she asked.

"Ahh, y-yeah, I see it! Yup! Right there, dunno how I missed it!" Finn babbled, feeling the tips of his ears go red hot as he wormed himself out of Marceline's grasp. "Well, now that that's been settled, let's, y'know, just keep on truckin'!" He started off at a strident pace, leaving Marceline still sort of hanging on someone who wasn't quite there anymore.

"Huh…" she mumbled to herself.

"_Glob-noggit, Finn! What the shoop!?"_

The two of them had fallen into a peaceful silence. The edge of the Ice Kingdom was slowly getting closer, and just in time; by Finn's estimations, they should reach the shelter and shade of those tall mountains before the full force of the midday son was posed overhead. With luck, they'd even find their cave without too much time out in it. Marceline was mostly safe from direct exposure, what with her hat and gloves, but daytime as a whole was bright enough to be a nuisance. At midday, that nuisance could become genuinely painful, and long times out in the sun would quickly wear her down and saddle her with body-wide pain, no matter how well she covered herself. In that regard, they were doing just fine.

Finn's discomfort stemmed entirely from Marcie, when she tried to point out their destination. Well, more as to _how_ she had done it. Finn's brain flicked back to a time years ago, when he and Jake had played hide and seek around the vampire's home while she was out, only to be interrupted when she had returned. Finn liked to imagine himself as a good dude. The kind of dude who doesn't spy on people, who doesn't look at things he's not supposed to, who respects people and doesn't go rummaging around in their private biz.

The last human had stumbled into quite a bit of Marceline's private biz that day. By the end of it he had been practically neck deep in stuff he was absolutely certain was not his to be walking around in.

"_Yeah, but even if they're stolen, you can't return memories and stuff. Even if you didn't mean to steal 'em."_

Which isn't to say he hadn't tried, as feeble as the attempt was. He _had_ told her that he'd seen _everything_, but Marceline either hadn't grasped the scope of the confession, or simply didn't care. Regardless, she seemed entirely unperturbed, and after a while, he let it go too. Things went back to normal, and all of the… _Stuff_ that Finn had seen was tucked neatly away in the place that he put the things he was determined to _never think of again_. And all was well.

That is, until a few years down the line, when Marceline just _had_ to show Finn the mountain they were planning on exploring, pressing a good deal of that private biz firmly against his back as she did. That sort of broke the whole thing wide open, and Finn was absolutely lost as to how to stuff it all back. And since the levy had broken, it had all been slamming around the walls of his dome-piece like a swarm of angry bees.

"_Soft, smooth, squishy looking bees… Oh gunk, AGAIN?!" _Finn could have just slapped himself, and that's just what he did. Marceline looked over with confused concern.

"Ahh, Finn buddy? You alright? You've been acting awful weird for a while…" She drifted on closer, studying his face with a scrutiny that the last human found almost impossible to bear.

"Heh, yeah, no problems, none at all! Just… Ah… J-just got a rock in my shoe, y'know? Hehehe, that's right…" He hopped up on one leg to pull off his right shoe, shaking it up and down furiously. Naturally, nothing came out; there hadn't been a rock to begin with. Finn still ran with it. "Haha, you know what, I think I may have just gotten it out! Yup, looks like we're rock free, haha!" He shoved his shoe back on and increased his pace.

He didn't want to think about how hard it was becoming to maintain eye contact. _"Good glob, I think something's wrong with me…"_ he lamented to himself. _"Alrighty Finn, you can do this. Use that whiz-kid-lid of yours, just tough it out! Do some mind-body biz, keep your thoughts straight. See, we're in the Ice Kingdom proper now. We're almost there. You just need a little dungeon crawl to clear your head, that's all…"_

When chilly fingers slid across his shoulder, he practically soared. "Gyahhhah! What, what is it!?"

"Finn," Marceline said firmly, grasping his shoulders and forcing the boy to face her directly. "I swear, you're the worst liar in Ooo. _What's wrong?_ You're starting to zonk me out, for reals."

Finn swallowed hard. He knew that voice, and knew he couldn't escape. Bad things happen when you try to ignore that voice.

"W-well… Do… D-do you remember way back when, when me and Jake were gonna come over to jam… B-but you weren't there, right, so we ended up laying hide and seek in your house, before you got back…?" Marcie nods quickly. "Well… Y'see…"

Finn never really thought he'd find something to say after that, but he was fairly certain that ignoring _that voice_ would almost certainly end with him getting jacked up, so he'd take it. Thankfully for Finn, he never got that far. There was a whoosh and a thump and then suddenly the boy found himself quite removed from Marceline's cool touch. As well as gravity.

Finn landed in a snowbank, and wasted no time in bolting up to see who had socked him. Three animated suits of chilled armor, all bearing tall shields and flanged maces, stood barring the road, arranged between the cliffs on either side of the path up into the heart of the Ice Kingdom. Their eyes glowed ghastly blue, flickers of the dark power that gave them life.

"Who the gob are you bozos?" Marceline asked with venom in her voice. "And tell me just what you think you're doing? We were talking here, could you not see that!? Did it not occur to you that maybe 'Oh, I should at least wait till they're done talking before I wallop 'em'? Did it EVER cross your mind that maybe, just MAYBE, there are more important things going on than your oh-so-urgent need for a dramatic fight scene RIGHT THIS MOMENT?!"

The armored spirits looked between each other, confused murmurs passing about. Eventually, the middle one spoke. "Well… We hadn't really thought that…"

"No that's right, you _didn't _think, did you? Nope, never even crossed your mind, did it? All it would have taken was a teensy weensy bit of self-restraint, maybe just a tiny tad of thought before action, and we could have had a nice conversation, followed by an action-packed battle. But NO, you had to go muck it up, and now we've got our talky-talky all jumbled up with our fighty-fighty! And it's _your flobbin' fault!"_

For a while, all was silent save for Marceline's quiet gasps. "Finn," she said after a bit. "Take these clowns to school, please?"

"Well, I mean. You're right there. Couldn't you just transform and clean 'em up?"

Marceline scoffed. "Not at this time of day. The hat doesn't change with me, wild-child, I'd be soup in a heartbeat. C'mon hero-boy, just lickity split, and we'll be on our way in WHOOOOAAAH!" She ducked as a mace flew through the space her head had occupied not moments before.

"We are the Revenant of Icetooth Pass!" the one in the center howled. "We died in the bitter cold, searching for this path out of the mountains, and none shall find passage here while our vengeful souls still walk Ooo!" He swung his mace again, several times, aimed at the still startled vampire queen.

"Hoop!" She stepped to the right of the first swing. "Whoop-ah!" The second swing flew wide. "Hahhhh…" She simply turned and walked out of range of the third swing, before turning back to offer choice taunts. "So awfully slow, you're like a little old lady with clonked bonkers! _Clonked. Bonkers._"

"Don't you mock me!" the revenant roared, tearing his mace from the ground. The movement sent up a plume of snow, splattering Marcie's face with it like she had been hit with a pie, like a clown at a circus. The vengeful spirit took his chance, and took a swing that tossed her to the ground. "Try running around for days in the cold looking for a mountain pass, just to die and be forced to guard it for all eternity! Come back and tell me how it feels!"

Now, someone with a keen mind, who was familiar with vampires, and more specifically the things that can and cannot hurt them, would know that there was simply zero chance that a mace of simple steel, no matter how heavy or how powerfully swung, could ever harm a pureblooded vampire. It simply wasn't possible.

Finn was none of those things. But smowzow, did he have a temper.

"Y-you…" he mumbled, fixated on Marceline's prone form.

"Yeah, I hit the dame!" the revenant said. It was almost like he was trying to be mocking, but couldn't quite muster all the backbone. It came out as a sort of half-question, half-sob. "Don't judge me! You don't know what I've been through!"

The boy mumbled something completely indecipherable. Marcie was picking her face out of the snow, looking quite miffed but ultimately no worse for wear, but the last human wasn't in a mood to notice.

"What was that?" the revenant asked. "You know I used to have a stuttering problem, couldn't get a single clear word out of my mouth, but I've got this guy I see every Tuesday, and he told me that if I wanna sound confident, I gotta tell myself…-"

What issued from Finn's mouth was somewhere between the scream of a pterodactyl with a sprained talon, two tigers being shaken around inside a spike-lined box, and a pack of howler monkeys who've just helped themselves to _far_ too much espresso. And it ended with "_…KIIIIILL YOUUUUU!_"

Marceline simply sat and watched as the last human in Ooo flung himself bodily through the air, colliding with the first revenant in a furious cyclone of swords, adrenaline, and screaming. Within three seconds of his initial impact, he had used his longsword to sever the spirit-armor's right arm before sliding it into the chest cavity through the top of his unfortunate target's breastplate, while the shortsword entered and exited the now exposed right side of the revenant's body a total of seven times, and Finn was moving to the next one before his first victim had hit the ground. He spun under the second spirit's lumbering swing as though it had been suspended in molasses, scouring the back of his opponent with twelve different cuts and stabs that left the armor's joints undone, with the moldering bones within falling to the snow as the back of the breastplate hung loose by a single leather strap.

The third and last spirit charged in, intending to use his superior bulk and tall tower shield to blindside Finn and crush the screaming hellion into the snow. Finn leapt, tumbling through the air to land on top of the spirit-armor's shield, driving the point of the frigid metal sheet deep into the packed snow. Finn transitioned from atop the shield to a perch on the revenant's shoulders, where he proceeded to plunge his blades down into the neck and up under the arms of his final victim, till the possessed suit of plate fell to the snow with a crunch, the integrity of its arms and neck completely destroyed.

The entire exchange lasted no longer than half a minute.

"Fwoo… Hahhh… Fwoo… Hahhh… Fwoo… Hahhh…" Finn stood above the broken scraps of what was once a band of vengeful warrior spirits, his breath coming in hard through the nose and out slow through the mouth. Marceline simply watched in shock.

"Mmm," the boy said, his usual cheer spread across his face. "That feels a lot better. You good Marcie?"

"Huh…?" The vampire had yet to regain her footing, still lying in the snow where she had been when Finn started his rampage. The Last Human of Ooo offered her his hand, and the gesture seemed to shock her.

"Marceline? Is your dome-piece alright?"

Something seemed to fall back into place in the rocker-vamp's head, and she floated up out of the snow, brushing herself off. "Dandy, bright-eyes," she said, flipping her hair rakishly over her shoulder. "Now let's get moving. Wasted enough time with these wads."

"Pure math!" Finn exclaimed, jogging down the path around bits of broken plate. Marceline just watched, still awestruck.

"_I guess…"_ she marveled, floating on behind him. _"I guess he's changed more than I thought…"_


	3. Chapter 3: Watch Out for Flying Sparks

**AN:**

Hey there everybody. The first thing I wanna say is that the feedback that I'm getting is truly insane, it's flattering beyond words to hear that you enjoy this to such an extent, and I only hope that the enjoyment builds as the story goes on.

Moving on to more details on the story itself, I've been thinking on a set schedule, so you guys can check in at a regular time instead of having to guess if I've uploaded again. I'm going to try to start at two uploads a week; the next upload will be on Monday, and after that I'll post next on Friday, so you guys can start and end the week with it. Sometimes I might be writing more, and I'm thinking that that'll go towards a buffer, so I'll have chapters handy if the dreaded writers block ever rears its ugly head. Things are starting to heat up though, and I'm more excited than ever to continue. Hope you enjoy!

**Watch Out for Flying Sparks:**

"By the smell of it… I'd guess this is it."

Finn waved his hand in front of his nose, coughing and grimacing. "Sure smells like _something_. Yuck."

Marceline drifted over to the cave's mouth, a tall, sharp fissure in a sheer wall of iced rock. The chasm echoed with white noise, far-distant projections of sounds made deep within. Finn couldn't help but grin with anticipation; that kinda sound mumbo-jumbo could often trick beginners into thinking a place was haunted, but to a seasoned ear like the Last Human of Ooo, it was a telltale sign of an extensive cave system.

"That 'something' you're smelling are volcanic gasses," Marceline explained. "Don't smell them too much Finn, they're crazy toxic."

"Nasty stuffs," Finn said, peering into the gloom that clouded the depths of the fissure. "But how are we gonna do this, then? Gas plus caves and tunnels is pretty much the worst combo in forever. If we could be running into pockets of it down there, we may as well go home now."

"Hmm…" Marceline thumbed her way through a tattered old notebook. "According to Ash's journal, Thoros has a mondo ventilation setup. You may smell it at times, but the concentrations are low enough that it shouldn't be a problem so long as you don't stop in a spot where it's built up."

"Nice nice _nice_," Finn half-sang, pumping his hands in the air as he approached the cave mouth. Marceline followed along, and the two made their first steps into the dungeon. Thankfully, it was lit; there were torches propped in stone sconces placed along the walls. With a sigh of relief, Marceline removed her hat and gloves, stuffing the latter into the former and setting them by the cave entryway.

"Oh _man _that feels better," she sighed, lacing her fingers together and stretching her arms out over her head. "Do you have any idea how much those gloves can _itch_?"

"Hmm, I guess? I feel that way with long socks sometimes," Finn responded. "Ooh, and turtleneck sweaters. _Laaaaame."_

"Huh… I dunno, I kinda like turtlenecks. Mad cozy, ya know?"

Finn blew his red-eating pal a raspberry, but said nothing further about it as they continued their march into the bowels of the mountain. It seemed that Ash's journal was accurate about the gas; Finn detected an occasional faint whiff here and there, but never for more than a few moments. Eventually, scenery started to switch around; rough, natural cave transitioned into smoother, hewn stone along the floor and walls, and the stalagmites and stalactites they had been navigating around had been obviously broken down, if the flat nubs dotting the ceiling were anything to go by. The torch sconces, previously mere iron frames, bolted to the stone walls wherever smooth spots presented themselves, became ornate articles, carved into the stone with exacting detail. They depicted the visage of some fearsome beast, with curved horns atop its head and four long, vicious tusks protruding from its mouth, between which the torch was cradled. The angle of the floor began to take a gentle downward incline, step by step leading them deeper and deeper in.

"Alrighty then… According to the journal, we should be reaching one of the first hazards; the gatehouse." Marceline slapped the journal shut and passed it to her companion, who stuffed it into his bag.

"Sounds gnarly," the blond boy responded with a grin. "I'm going to assume that there are some gnarly gatekeepers keeping the gnarly gate?"

"You know it, wild-child," Marcie said with a wink. "Thoros rules over his Forgelings. They're like his kids, made of scraps, slag, and cuttings from the things he smiths, brought to life by bits of his power. They help him with his creations, mine the ores that he needs, and take care of his domain while he works. And they can be _pretty _tough sometimes." The last bit was laced with a tiny bit of challenge; just enough to get Finn's blood pumping at the thought. A little test, to gauge the presence of something that had left as suddenly as it had arrived, much to Marceline's confusion.

"_Finn is strong. He's always been strong,"_ she thought to herself, watching the boy studiously as he strolled along, arms resting idly on the hilts of his swords. _"But… Not like this… Never quite like this…"_

For the first time in centuries, Marceline held her left arm with her right hand, and felt goosebumps along her ashen skin. The imagines were still fresh in her mind; one moment, he was Finn. Goofy, childish, excitable Finn, practically stupefied in that way he got whenever he was trying to hide something. Bright. Familiar. Like a little shard of sunshine, bound in human form. Normal, even, if that word could ever apply to the Last Human of Ooo.

Then she had been hit, and in an instant her mortal friend had changed completely, into something of a different nature entirely. She remembered watching him, head tilted in confusion as he had pulled himself to his feet. Even there, he seemed like a complete stranger, no longer the joy filled, carefree young man with an immaculate heart. And though she had thought it at first, he hadn't devolved to some animalistic state. It was no mad, brutal rage, though he was mad, and his actions were brutal. There was intent. Calculation. He hadn't savaged those spirit-armors.

He took them apart, with the same purposeful method that a butcher takes apart a steer. Cut by cut, from roast to steak to trimmings. It was a manner she expected from serial killers, not that bouncing ball of positivity and selflessness. And that was only the abstract; her more immediate observations were far more mundane, but even more unsettling.

"_The kid's a friggin' _killing machine_," _she admitted in awe, and it was an objective statement. He had struck like a meteor, completely sudden and utterly devastating. His blades were a whirlwind of steel, his movements like greased lightning. He cut deeper than a razor, pierced further than any arrow. He was a ghost, completely untouchable, and then he was a fiend, terrible and mighty.

In honesty, it scared her. And in honesty still, it aroused her like nothing she had witnessed before. She thought back to that morning, when she had teased his state of undress. At the time, she hadn't even made note of it; Finn wasn't a sexual being to her. How could he have been, he was as pure as newly fallen snow? But now her mind was racing with images that found her biting her lip and hoping there was no rosy color to the pallor of her skin. She imagined the way his trim, slender frame moved beneath that sweatshirt, his pale skin hiding bundles of lean but powerful muscle, and how firm it'd feel beneath her touch, like cords of steel. It had been over a thousand years since Marceline Abadeer had felt the beat of her own heart. And for the first time since, she had to remind herself that it could beat no more, and the pounding drum in her chest was only her imagination.

"_This is bad,"_ she thought to herself. _"Dangerous. You can't do that to him… You closed your heart a long, long time ago and Finn… I can't put him through that. I won't. It'd break him completely."_

It had been centuries since her cold heart had felt love, but that certainly didn't leave the Vampire Queen celibate. Mortal love dies. It fades. Marceline did not. Could not. Oh, she had tried at first, and again and again, but the pain it brought her was too much to bear, so love was no more for her. But while mortal love would always fall to the passage of time, mortal _lovers_ could be quite transient without repercussion. No more abandonment. No more loneliness. No more pain. She found company, comfort, and pleasure, and to her battered, lonely heart, that was enough, and it had been enough ever since.

"_Finn can't be like that," _she decided immediately. _"He's too clean, too pure. If we did… Anything, he would fall for me, and then he would age, and I would watch. Unchanging. And eventually, I would move on, and it would break him. And you would hate yourself. Again…"_

She eyed Finn, watching him with a cautious expression on her face. She wanted him. Badly. Wanted to feel that focused, precise ferocity, but she knew she never could. And that only made it worse.

"Whoa…" Finn stopped in his tracks, breaking Marceline's train of thought. She stopped too, and they both stared at the sight before them. The door was twenty feet tall, and made entirely of black iron. Its surfaces bore the image of Thoros at his forge, his horned, tusked face stooped over an anvil, a piece of steel between his tongs and his hammer raised to strike it. The image was seamless with the door, forged from the very same metal. How such detail was achieved was completely unknown to either of the two adventurers. "I guess this is it," the Last Human said, rather impressed.

"Yeah, seems like it." Marceline flashed her friend a sly grin. No sense in losing her cool. "You wanna knock, or should I?" she asked jokingly.

"Heh, no reason we can't do it together. Teamwork, girl!" He began an easy stride forward towards the door, completely unfazed, and Marceline followed, eyeing the slabs of black metal with a bit more caution than her companion.

"Halt!" called a thunderous voice, seemingly from nowhere. "Who are you, to seek passage into the halls of mighty Thoros? State your business!"

"I'm Finn, a human boy, and this is Marceline the Vampire Queen!" Finn responded. "And we're here for your bass!"

For a while, there was no response, before the voice returned. "There… There is no bass here! Now begone, buffoon. Find your fish elsewhere!"

"F-fish…?" The hero looked to Marceline in confusion, who wore a rather exasperated expression. "Marcie, what the gonk are they talkin' about?"

"Ahhh… Heheh…" The immortal took a sheepish grin, scratching her neck nervously. "Ah yeah, about that. I meant to tell you that it's pronounced 'base', but… Well, you were singing that song and I didn't wanna kill your vibe. Soooooo sorry."

"Huh. Eh, no worries." He turned back to face the gate. "I mean _bass_! We're here for the _bass_!"

"Oh, well why didn't you just say so?" the gate called back. "People come around to see it all the time!"

"So… So you'll let us have it then?"

"_NOPE!" _Came the thunderous response. "People come for the bass, and we make 'em cry about it!" The gate began to grind its way open, revealing an assembling platoon of Forgelings, their dull metal bodies seeping at the joints with the fire that animated them. Each bore a pair of bladed arms, which they brandished and waved at their two foes. "Get ready to _CRY!_" The door roared, and the formation charged, their iron feet clanking along the ground.

"We're gonna make _you guys _cry!" Finn shouted back, drawing his root swords. Marceline began her transformation, shifting into the massive, monstrous bat form that she preferred. As Finn charged in, a bolt of lightning streaking across the chamber, his vampire ally spread her wings, soaring above his head to strike the rear ranks of their foes.

Finn met the Forgelings with his swords leading, dipping and sliding between and around the attacks of the iron warriors to find homes in joints and gaps. He knew their metallic bodies would be immune to his attacks; maybe if he still had his father's demonblood sword, he would have had more success, but his root swords would never prevail against such a sturdy construction. Their joints, however, were bound together by a less hardy mix of slag and shavings, and proved to be much more vulnerable. The golden-haired hero began to dispatch them handily, a whirling gale of parries, deflections, and killing strokes.

Marceline landed among them with a thunderous impact, shaking the entire cavern when she did, and she immediately began wading in among them, grinding the group down between Finn's furious onslaught and her own crushing blows, sending the Forgelings tumbling aside like bowling pins. Their heated blades bit into her, but her hide had a supernatural toughness, and what little damage they did healed itself almost instantly. She gave a low, grating chuckle at the Forgelings' efforts; they were completely outclassed.

Marceline smashed the last foe before her, bringing her hands down in a brutal axe-handle, just in time to see Finn parry his last Forgeling's slash wide, bringing his longer blade down to sever it and spinning round to take advantage of the opening, his shorter blade hacking into the neck joint and nearly severing it. He raised his foot, thrusting it forward into his foe's chest with his hips driving it through, blasting the Forgeling off its feet and onto its back. The Last Human leapt in, showing no mercy as he hacked the prone Forgeling apart. He stood, sheathing his blades as Marceline shifted back into her humanoid form. She brushed some lint off the front of her top.

"We cleaned them up pretty nicely," she said, looking around to admire their handiwork. "I've got high hopes baby-face. You and I make a pretty rad combo."

"Mucho thanko, Marcie," he responds, grinning wide. "Now let's get this show on the road, we've got a bass to nab!"

"Slam-jammin'," she agreed, reaching down to nab something from a fallen Forgeling. "And I've got the key. Follow on, bright eyes."

As Marceline floated off, she was relieved to note that she felt calm and collected; not the charged hormonal mess she had felt like before their most recent conflict. _"Ok, Finn is growing up, and he's growing up to be _obscenely hot_. But that's alright, you're not worried. Marcie, you're more than a thousand years old. You've seen it all, I'm sure you can handle staying platonic with an attractive friend. Besides, he's still got the mentality of a child! Come _on_ girl, if you were looking for a fling you could _definitely _do better. Yeah. Heck yeah. Keep it real, baby, you're doin' alright."_

And with that, she took a deep breath in and opened the gate.


	4. Chapter 4: Hero Boy

**AN:**

Hey there lovelies. I know it's not exactly Monday like I said it'd be, but here it is. A lot of things piled up this week that separated me from my deadline, but to be honest, I'm still quite pleased with how it came along. Consistancy will come with repetition, I think. I hope.

(oh god how will I do it aksjdhalkjdsfhald)

ANYWAYS thanks for the praise, you beautiful boys and girls. We're moving things right along with this one. Last update was warm, but now we're gonna start cooking with fire. Enjoy!

Hero Boy:

Marceline slid the key into the lock, yelping a bit and stepping back as several loud clangs sounded from within the thick iron slabs. Massive mechanisms, hidden from view within the door and the surrounding rock, ran through their functions, half-ton deadbolts falling into their recesses in a series of resounding booms. It was a long two minutes before the cacophony was done. Marceline issued a short giggle. "You know you're doing it right when the _door_ stops you longer than the guys guarding it, huh Finn?"

The human boy nodded as the massive slab of iron split down the middle, the two pieces swinging inward smoothly. "Yeah, I was honestly hoping for more," he agrees. "Though those blades of theirs are _hot hot hot_. I saw that you got cut a little; are you alright?"

"Oh, I'm just fine wild-child," Marceline insists. "Not much hurts me when I'm transformed, and even less hurts me for long."

"Riiiight, because you've got your vampire regeneration bit. How's that stuff work, anywho?" Finn seems oddly unperturbed, to Marceline. Even most of the people she called friends weren't really willing to straight up ask about that sort of thing; Jake certainly wouldn't. Sometimes, she wondered what the dog felt more towards her, friendship or fear. Honestly, she found his forthrightness to be refreshing. It made her feel _normal_.

"Well… In vampire circles, purity of blood is very important. They say that the first vampire was made by a guy whose blood was so pure, it allowed him magical properties. He went through a bunch of really nasty rituals, until he reached immortality. So the less things in a vampire's blood that separate him or her from the progenitor, the more powerful the vampire is. It's all blood magic."

"Ok, I _think_ I get it…" Finn 'hmmm'ed for a bit. "And the whole eating red thing?"

"Well, most vampires drink blood in search of the good stuff; a vampire who's been drinking good, thick, pure blood for a long time can grow stronger. As for the red, well I've always figured that's just coming from the demon side of the family."

"Right. Way rad, man. If you didn't have such a freaky dad, I might be a snack right now." Finn seemed quite pleased by that, and Marceline tittered a bit.

"Well that still isn't completely out of the question," she said, treating him with a hungry gaze. The Last Human gave a bit of a yelp, and hopped up a few steps deeper into the cave, a bit more distance between them. Marceline just laughed.

"_Such a mush,"_ she said to herself, smiling softly. _"He's like a little puppy, I swear. Just bouncing around between toys and games and friends."_

"_And what about 'cute, mushy, and innocent' is so appealing to you?"_ Another voice asked in whisper, like a little thing gnawing at the back of her head. The immortal scoffed a bit, internally.

"_It's… Not appealing like 'that'. It's just… Well, he's endearing. Worms his way inside your heart, no matter how hard you try to lock him out. And he doesn't fight his way in. It just… Happens."_ Marceline looked about, feeling suddenly quite self-conscious. _"How long has it been since I opened up? Like, really opened up? Five hundred years? Six?"_

The Vampire Queen watched her human friend walking along, scanning the faces of the cave for traps or treasure, occasionally pausing to listen for the approach or an enemy. Those deep blue eyes cast back to her momentarily, and he offered her a smile. It wasn't the cheap, sycophantic grin she was used to from others of her kind. It came from the eyes, a gesture of genuine affection. She felt something pluck at her heartstrings, a wonderful ache in the center of her chest. _"How long has it been?" _she asked herself. _"Since you found someone you thought you could trust?"_

The other voice answered her: _"Long enough for you to know it's a pipe-dream. Nobody wants to see the things you keep trapped up in your head. You're a monster. A freak. Nobody should have to share the things you've seen. Nobody deserves that fate." _And sadly, Marceline agreed, as she always did. She was an alien, twisted thing. As much as she despised the rest of her kind, at least they understood what it was like to live forever, if you could call it anything but a mockery of life. And there was no bright-haired, blue-eyed boy who could ever understand something like that.

But at least she could enjoy the view.

Finn kept on trucking, watching warily for traps or ambushes. He didn't know how deep they'd be going before they started their accent towards the chamber where the bass was held; it felt like he had been walking for hours already, with no break in the monotony for combat or problem-solving. Thoughts that he had been holding before came seeping back in, but slower and gentler. Finn could have sighed in relief; whatever that crazed panic had been, the fights since seemed to have blown it over.

When he looked back at Marceline, he got the same impressions of her that he had of Flame Princess, all those years ago. Sure, it was a more intense impression, that was immediately apparent, but it was of the same ilk. That made the Last Human significantly more comfortable with it. _"You like her, bud!" _he could hear Jake telling him. _"And there ain't nothin' wrong with that. Peeps are gonna like peeps, and that's just how peeps are."_

"_Alright then. So you like Marceline now." _He thought hard on that for a while. _"Like, not love. Definitely not love."_ There was definitely no doubt about that, in Finn's mind. He had loved FP. They had shared things that were sensitive to the both of them. Flame Princess had been bright and clear, letting no doubts stand that she was being honest about her feelings for him.

Marceline seemed to be on the opposite side of that spectrum; she was dark and mysterious, a sassy, saucy enigma cloaked in secrecy. There was nothing to her but the things she told you, and while you knew that wasn't all there was to it, she made you feel like asking for more was a very bad idea. She was Finn's friend, sure. That wasn't up for debate. But beyond that and a few snips and snipes here and there, Finn realized that there was an awful lot about Marceline that he just had no idea about. And that was that.

"_Of course, that's all in my head. I may not be the wisest guy about all this romeo biz, but…" _He took what he hoped was a covert glance back at his immortal friend. _"…Yowza, she's smokin'. Her hair is… So pretty. Come on Finn. Peebles? FP? You've always had a thing for ladies with long hair. And her eyes are _intense_. I think I could look at that red forever…"_

Of course, there were other things he was thinking now, that hadn't quite crossed his mind when he was dating Flame Princess. Like the way her waist curved inward delicately, before flaring out into her hips. Or the way her top swelled gently over her chest, while leaving her smooth, slender shoulders bare. Or the way her legs seemed to go on for ages… Things then turned in a direction that Finn would rather that it didn't, and he shook his head vigorously, terminating the line of thought. _"You like Marcie now,"_ he said. _"That's definitely clear... You're gonna have to talk to Jake about it. Ugh, that guy always gets all annoying and tease-y when you do this, like I don't have enough to worry about without him making fun of me."_

He heard Marceline say _something_ but didn't quite catch it in time. His face smacked into hard stone and he stumbled back, grasping at his nose. "Eeeeeeyouch…" He hissed, looking up.

"I _told_ you to look out," the vampire said, catching him and holding him up for a bit. "Some adventurer _you are_." She added that with a teasing tone, giving his shoulder a playful squeeze. Finn grumbled something about 'disappearing walls', before putting his feet under him and leaving Marceline's grasp. He could feel her cool hands through his sweatshirt, leaving little men doing backflips in his gut.

"I'm guessing this is the next part of the trip," he said, eyeing the thing he had walked into. It was a door, with a quite peculiar symbol carved into it; a blazing bonfire surrounding what appeared to be a chunk of crystalline ice.

"Yep. It's one of the primary access shafts, runs up and down the entire mountain. That's the whole fire-and-ice thing; you can use one of these to go from top to bottom, straight line," Marceline explained, reading it out of Ash's journal. That thing sure was coming in handy. _"More useful than the guy who wrote it, that's for sure," _she thought to herself, filled with derision. Seriously. What a _wad_.

"Hm. Well it's a good thing that Thoros made the place so well; most of the times that I do this, things are like _crazy _complicated. Makes you wonder how people even live in these places. Like, 'do these lizard people _really_ do the gem puzzles and jump over the lava pits _every time_ they come and go'?"

"Oh, come on Finn. Lizard people love lava pits because they can just crawl past on the ceiling," the vamp said with a laugh. "Now get on over here, baby-face. No tell what he's got guarding this thing."

Finn nodded, eyes narrowing, hands resting on the hilts of his swords as Marceline opened the door and floated through. "Ah… Marcie? I've got a real bad feeling about this…" He said, looking about cautiously as they passed through the door. He was getting one of those hero-feelings, and it wasn't a good one. The back of his neck itched something fierce. Constantly, his gaze was whipped about by a perception of motion, but when he fixed his eyes on the spot in question, there was nothing there but the stone of the shaft around them. It was a long, sloping, spiral staircase, all along the edges of the massive chamber. A deep, warm glow emanated from down below, and a look over the edge revealed a mindbogglingly long way down, up from which came the sounds of steel striking steel; a thick, heavy, rhythmic clang that made Finn's teeth rattle and his ears ring with each and every stroke. Then, deep down in the fiery depths, the hammer's fall stopped.

"Um… Marcie?" Finn barely dared to whisper his companion's name, such was his level of nervousness. "Something… Something is coming."

Marceline could barely utter the words 'I know' before the air around them seemed to jump ten degrees hotter. What was a temperate cavern with wisps of heat rising from below became something like a sweltering desert, with scalding thermals spiraling upwards from deep within.

"**I was wondering when you'd show your little faces,"** boomed a deep, terrible voice. Gusts of hot air accompanied it. **"My children told me of your arrival. Who are you to march so rudely into my home?"**

Finn took a few seconds to catch his breath, and then stepped up to the ledge, casting his words out into the updrafts. "I'm Finn, a human boy!" he yelled. "And this is Marceline, the Vampire Queen!"

"**Hmmmm…" **the voice responded. **"The Vampire Queen, and a human? My, this is odd… One, I was expecting, but the other… How quaint. Quaint indeed."**

"W-wait…" Marceline sputtered. "You _knew_ I was coming?"

It had been said so quietly, the immortal was unsure how it had been heard over the moanings of the heated flow that rose from below, but indeed it had been heard. **"Your name has passed in these halls before,"**__the voice intoned. **"First, once, from the lips of the buffoonish mage you sent here. He was sent off, of course, but now his master has returned for her prize, just as I had thought she would."**

"No, no, you've got it all twisted," Marceline began, but she was silenced by a column of roaring, hissing, molten steel, which roared up from the bottom of the shaft and hung before them in a raging sheet of liquid metal. The metal took a face, two slashes for eyes and a gaping maw of fire and steel.

"**SILENCE!"** the mouth howled, and the sound felt like the roaring of a firestorm. Splashes of the molten metal spattered around the two adventurers. Finn leapt to the side, rolling along the floor to avoid being struck by the super-heated soup. **"You have come here to take that which is not yours to take. You ignored the rebuke, attacked my children, and forced your way through my doors. My Forgelings will be remade. The doors of my domain shall be sealed again. The nuisance you have caused me will be mended."**

The face took an even more fearsome shape, could that ever be possible. It grew spiraled horns from its head, and four long, scything tusks from the top and bottom jaw. **"But there is no one here who will remake **_**you**_**."**

The mass of molten steel then lost its shape, plummeting back down into the depths of the mountain. After it was gone, there was silence again, and the clanging of steel struck between hammer and anvil continued. Then, the door behind them clanged and clattered, and when Marceline moved to open it, the portal held fast. Even with every ounce of her vampiric strength behind her, she could not budge it.

The sounds of chains and gears came echoing down from above, tearing Marceline's gaze upwards, a shard of panic in her blood-red eyes. "Oh…" she whispered in dread. "Oh _no_…"

"Marcie," Finn said cautiously. "What's going on?"

"He knew I was coming," she told her human friend. She gave him a look that made his stomach drop. It was fear. "Finn, he _knew_."

With the grind of stone moving against stone, lines in the rock tore around the walls of the cavern. Thoros had known Marceline would come for the bass. Ash, that imp, had told him the instrument was for her. So, knowing that the Vampire Queen was coming for his greatest creation, he had prepared, cutting free entire slabs of stone, installing mirrors of polished steel, creating mechanisms both to both fine and gross scales. Preparing his domain in his visitor's honor. And now, those preparations came to their purpose.

The mountain opened up, and the sun came pouring in.

Once, Finn had seen what sunlight would do to his immortal friend. She opened a door, and though she was safe in the dark on one side, the other side shone with damaging brilliance. It had only been a moment's exposure, but her face blistered as though someone had pressed a clothes iron against it. She had hissed in pain and rage, retreating back into her home, and the damage had healed almost at once. Yet it was unlike the way it mended cuts from blades of red-hot steel. The light had stunned and weakened Marceline, and it took her several minutes to fully recover her composure. That was just one taste, a scant glimpse. Now, through Thoros' ingenious contraption, there was no retreat back into blissful darkness.

Marceline screamed as she wilted under the inescapable beams. Her powers fled from her body, dumping her to the ground where she writhed, the glaring light scouring her. Her ashen skin crackled and hissed as the sun beat down on her, falling away in smoldering clumps like burning paper. Her long raven hair set fire, the tongues of flame climbing their way up her once-silky tresses towards her scalp. No matter how she rolled or thrashed, there was no escape from the killing rays, and she spent every moment in terror and agony.

Finn couldn't bear it. The sounds grated on his brain like rusted nails on a chalkboard. The sight made his heart hurt and his limbs tremble as he rushed over to his fallen friend. Hands scrabbling for the tab, he tore down the zipper of his sweatshirt, pulling it from his body as quickly as he could, before draping the white and blue garment over her.

The screaming stopped. And so did the sizzle and pop. Finn, heart hammering so hard against his sternum that he thought it might just pop, sat for a moment with the thoughts of what he had just witnessed. _"Is she dead?"_ a part of him wondered. The rest of him didn't dare check. She didn't move. For what seemed like an eternity, Marceline lay without movement or sound, and Finn simply sat there next to her, too terrified to change the situation.

After a while, there was a weak, whimpering moan from beneath the fabric of the makeshift cover. A single hand, the skin burnt raw, wormed its way out from under, back into the brilliant scourge. Finn covered it with his own before more damage could be done, his mind pulled back into function by the barest signs of life. "Roll over," he told his friend. "Marcie, you've gotta roll over. Under the sweatshirt. I'll hold it in place, just roll onto your front."

It took a great deal of coaxing, but eventually Marceline managed to lie on her belly, Finn making sure that her exposed arms, face, and shoulders never left the cover of his sweatshirt. "Alright, there you go," he whispered. "Now put your arms into the sleeves…"

Finn tugged, pulled, pushed, and manipulated his companion, until his garment was properly set on her frame. It surprised the human boy how big it was on her, since she spent most of her time floating several heads above him, but there were no complaints at all; bigger would make this easier for everyone involved.

Careful to keep his back between her and the mirrors, Finn lifted Marceline's fallen form, one arm behind her back, the other under her knees. "I'm taking you somewhere dark," he said to her, though he wasn't sure if she could even understand him. Her fingers curled weakly against his chest, her only response. Finn scanned the surrounding cavern, eventually noting a half-ruined column on the far side, two flights up. He immediately set out, holding her tightly. Those two levels seemed to take forever, and every moment Finn was sure they'd be waylaid by more Forgelings, or some other threat. Yet it never came, and when they arrived before that half-broken pillar, tucked up against the inner edge of the stairway, Finn was relieved to find that it cast a long shadow. Carefully, he set Marcie down, propping her back against the stone.

"_She's safe,"_ he told himself. _"Barely… But for now, she's out of danger…"_

The boy stooped over the vampire, dropping down to his knees in front of her. Reaching out carefully, he placed his fingers under Marceline's chin, tipping her head up off of her chest so he could get a look at her face. It was definitely still her, that could never be mistaken, but her skin was ravaged, her face covered in deep, raw burns. "Marcie…?" he whispered. "Are… Are you alright?"

Slowly the eyes opened, deep ruby red. They blinked, vacant and confused, before focusing in on Finn's own baby blue. A small, weak smile parted her cracked lips. "H-hey there…" she rasped. "Why… Why the long look, bright eyes…?"

Finn just shook his head, his shoulders slumping in relief. Marceline brushed the back of his hand with her fingers; it was about all the motion she could muster. "I thought… I thought I was too late…" he mumbled. If he spoke any louder, he thought his voice might crack. "You're all jacked up and I… I thought I wasn't fast enough and you…" His voice trailed off. The boy couldn't say it.

"No such thing, baby…" Marceline brushed his hand weakly again, and he finally took her fingers in his, holding them loosely. "You came along just in time… Hero boy…"

It was far too deep in, and she was far too feverish to notice it, but in the back of Marcie's mind, out of a mouth she was certain would never speak again, a little voice echoed her words.

"_My hero boy…"_


	5. Chapter 5: The Bite

**AN:**

Well, that schedule I put up is completely shot. This isn't Friday at all! So we're going to try to shoot for a weekly schedule now, and we can ramp it up higher if we find that we need to. I'm done with school for a while, so I may find much more free time on my hands. Regardless, I'll try to aim to have the next chapter up by at latest this same day next week.

More comments! I love it, I love it to death, and I can't get enough! Nephilim, your comments are always positive and cheerful, really helps with the self-esteem. When I post a chapter I always look forward to seeing what you think of it.

Sage, your lengthy praise is music to my ears. I'm glad you liked the combat scenes; martial arts is one of my greatest passions in life, and I try to use some of what I've learned to give a sense of realism and flavor to the way the scenes progress. Finn's fighting style is based largely on Filipino Martial Arts, like Silat and Kali, which are known for extremely comprehensive weapons skills, including sticks and both small and large blades. You put something sharp in Finn's hands, and he'll find a way to kill you with it, no matter what it, or you, may be. ;)

Well, here's my present to you readers this Christmas. It's our spiciest chapter yet, hope you enjoy.

The Bite:

The two of them sat there for a while, lying on opposite sides of the staircase. Marceline quickly fell asleep, and Finn thought that it was probably for the best. It'd be unwise for them to continue until she regained her full strength. How long that'd be, Finn had no idea, but her burns seemed to be closing themselves, ever so gradually. That was good, at least. Especially her hair. In places it had almost burned down to the follicle, but in the last few minutes it seemed to have completely evened itself out, growing only in the shorter spots until they were uniform with what hadn't burned quite so thoroughly.

"_Weird," _the human decided. _"But you're pretty weird too, so that's not really a big deal…"_

Finn reached into his bag, pulling out a small sack of jerky. Finn _liked _jerky. Salty chewy chomp. Delish. The Last Human leaned back against the stone wall, munching contentedly. He wondered for a moment if Marceline would get anything out of jerky. _"Huh… I guess not. Maybe? There's a _little _red in there…"_

He leans back, chewing as he thinks. _"Will those injuries make her hungry?" _he wondered. Finn remembered what happened the last time Marceline got hungry and had nothing to sate her appetite. How would the injuries exacerbate that? The Last Human looked about, scanning the area for anything suitable. _"The lava down below is right out. We've already been down that line," _he said, before growling in frustration. _"Gob flobbit. Nothing but grey stone all over the place…"_

"Hahhh…" Marceline groaned, shifting her head over from one shoulder to the other. Finn sat up, scooting across the floor over to her.

"You there Marcie?" he asked her, reaching up to hold her shoulder. His fingers somehow wound up on her cheek. A spot that had been burnt raw was now unmarred. Smooth, silky, cool to the touch…

"Mmmh… Finn?" Her red eyes flickered open, searching his face. There were things Finn didn't recognize in that expression, like dependence, and vulnerability. "Where are we…?"

"Not too far from… Well, down there," he responded, gesturing around. "We're still in the staircase. I found you some shade…"

"I… I can tell," she responded. The Vampire Queen leaned into his hand, pinning his fingers between her shoulder and cheek. There was no force behind it, but Finn felt bound there anyways. "Thank you, Finn. You saved my life…"

"Ehh… Well, it wasn't really anything," he insisted, feeling the tips of his ears heat up. "I… I just… You're my friend!"

The exclamation puzzled Marceline, who looked to him curiously. Finn sighed, ordering his thoughts. "I help my friends," he finished. The smile that Marcie gave him brought the flips back to his stomach. "Jerky?" Finn offered. "They're not exactly red, but… Kinda maroonish?"

"I definitely need… Something," Marceline said in a weary voice. Finn felt her fingers curl weakly around his elbow, before falling limp. "I've… I don't really have much left in the tank…"

"Here…" Finn fished a piece of it out of the sack, holding it up to Marceline's lips. "Go ahead, try this. There's more if it helps."

Finn picked Marceline's head off of her shoulder, holding it up as straight as he could while he held the jerky infront of her mouth. Curling back her lips, the vampire bit into the cured meat, draining the pigment from it. It took her several minutes to drain the piece of its red, and she seemed visibly exhausted when she was done. "Not… Not much…" she whispered. "But it's definitely there…"

"Alright, take it easy for a bit, then I'll give you more," Finn directed, and Marceline chuckled, giving a tiny nod before falling silent. Finn eyed the surroundings, listening for any approaching visitors. "Why hasn't Thoros sent more of his peeps?"

"Well… Maybe he thinks we're… Already dead? Or at least that I am… I don't think he thought you were a credible threat…" Talking so much made Marcie's head throb painfully; she issued a whimpering groan, pressing her head against Finn's arm.

"Easy, you're resting right now," Finn admonished. "Here, more jerky, less talky." Finn tipped his friend's head forward, putting the second piece of cured meat in biting range. She drained it faster than the first piece, but still sluggishly. He offered the vampire a second piece, which she also drained, but Marceline refused the third piece. Just off of curiosity, Finn popped a grey piece of jerky into his mouth. "Huh… You really do only eat the red," he said in amazement.

"Heh… Pretty much…"

They sat like that for a while, Finn occasionally feeding Marceline a piece of jerky. For Finn, it was extremely nerve-wracking. He felt that if he as much as breathed wrong, he'd ruin everything. How, he wasn't sure, but he was sure that he would.

For Marceline, it felt refreshingly nice. _"It isn't often you have people around to rely on, is it?"_ she asked herself. _"Certainly not when things get that bad. Enjoy it. You can bring back the spunk and the sass and the self-reliance later… Just enjoy it."_

By the end of the bag, Marceline could feel some of the strength returning to her limbs. She could now grasp things and hold them; midway through she took the bag from Finn, feeding herself as her fingers regained their functions. That was definitely something Marceline wasn't going to allow to continue; she was going to feed herself, if she could say anything about it.

"You're looking a little better," Finn offered. "Those burns closed up nice and clean."

"Mm," Marceline hummed, nodding. She tugged at the clothes Finn had placed on her; the sweatshirt was definitely too big. The hood almost completely obscured her vision, bunching up around her neck as it was both too deep and too tall for her. Her hair helped fill it out some, but she still had to straighten it every now and then. There was a peculiar scent to the fabric; something warm and familiar but also bright and clean. It seemed to remind her of the tree-house almost immediately; of nights spend down by the fireplace, bundled up on the couch with every blanket in the place, or up on the lookout, with all the stars stretched out above her. She had taken her share of those nights, having lived in the place herself.

"We should get moving," Finn said. "It's still a while before it's gonna get dark, and I don't think we should stick around that long. Do you think you could walk?"

Marceline tried to get her feet under her body, tossing out thoughts that made her knees feel weaker than they already were, but the joints wouldn't quite support her weight. "I… I don't think so," Marceline said, leaning against the column. "I need more red… Either that or more time."

"Well," Finn said, standing up into a cautious crouch. "I don't think we have much time. At least not here. I'm surprised we haven't been interrupted yet, this place looks like mad peeps come through here. So we should go." Finn paused to think. "Well, what else do we have that's red?"

Marceline grinned evily. "Well _you_ do, bright eyes," she teased, baring her fangs at him. Finn blanched, like he usually did at Marceline's threats, but then his expression turned thoughtful again. She could hear the gears clanking.

"Well…" Finn said, scratching his chin. "Could I possibly make a… Well, a donation? While still keeping enough to keep the ticker ticking?"

"You're… Offering? Some of your blood?" Marceline looked awestruck. Because she was. Finn ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"Well I mean, yeah. If it'd help. Not all of it! Just enough to get you up and running…?" Finn looked like his head was about to explode.

Marceline fixed her eyes on some imaginary spot on her pants, hoping no rosy pink was seeping through her natural pallor and hoping, if it did, that the hood hid it. "H-how do you know I won't just bleed you out?" she asked haltingly.

"Marcie, you're like one of my best friends ever," Finn insisted, his normally jovial voice firm and forceful. "You wouldn't do that to me, you're one of my peeps. A comrade… Right?"

She could feel his eyes fixed on her, waiting for the next objection. "And you're sure? That you trust me and all that stuff? This is like a big deal, Finn. Like dangerous."

Finn's face took an odd look, one Marceline didn't recognize from him. Finn was a carefree, jubilant soul. Almost childish. _"He looks… _Old_," _she thought. _"Tired, too."_

"Marcie," he said. "I've a _lot_ of blood over the years. A little more to help a friend isn't too much to ask. I've probably lost more for reasons that are a lot less important."

It made sense as Marceline thought of it; Finn was the greatest hero active in Ooo. His day in and day out life was questing for the good of Ooo's people, and no matter how the kid saw it, that meant going up against the meanest, nastiest beings in the place. Ooo wasn't a safe place. It hadn't been since the Mushroom War, and some with the insight into those times would say that it wasn't safe even before the bombs fell.

"_The things that this kid has had to go through…"_ She considered, unsure how she had known the boy so long without wondering about his perspective. _"You've had a thousand years to deal with all of this… With good and evil and death and distruction. And… And things going on around you that you can't control, no matter how hard you try… And he's only seventeen! But… He deals with it better than you do."_ She considered Finn again, looked him from top to bottom. _"Who _is _he? And why did you never think that there was more there than what there appeared to be? He's not stupid. He understands what danger means… He may even understand it better than you do."_

Marceline sighed, looking at her hands. "Alright," she said quietly, before fixing her red eyes to his blue. "If you're sure, then alright."

"O-okay then," Finn said, nodding quickly, uncomfortably. "Well… What do I do?"

Marceline chuckled, wiggling herself further up against him. "Relax," she said, an order rather than advice. Finn tried his best as his vampire friend made herself at home, sliding her legs across his to take a seat in his lap. Her nose was inches from his own, her ruby-red eyes huge and deep, filled with captivating detail. He could feel his heart skip a beat, and distantly wondered if she had noticed. "And chin up."

"Marcie?" Finn said nervously as he complied. "You're… Kinda really close…"

"_Relax_," she told him with a whisper in Finn's ear that sent a strange shiver down his spine. He felt her fingers press against his face, her thumb covering his lips, raising goosebumps as she pressed her cool form against his bare torso. Her head slid to the side, bringing her lips against his neck.

"Hahhhh…" Finn gasped, another, larger tremor racing down his spine as Marceline bit down, drinking deeply from his vein. Finn could see stars swimming behind his eyelids, as his hand flew to the back of Marceline's head. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he told himself that if she didn't stop, he'd pull her off of him, but Finn wasn't really sure he'd be able to manage it. The Vampire Queen only drank for a few moments, a second or two, but it felt like he was sitting there for hours, his head swimming, his nose filled with the smell of her hair. It was a sweet smell, but also dark and powerful, like strong incense. When Marceline pulled back, the two sharp spikes of pain in his neck reduced itself to a low burn. Finn immediately rubbed the spot where she had bit him as Marcie sat back down on the stone next to him, but the puncture wounds were already gone.

"It was a feeding, not a turning," Marcie immediately said, purposefully looking the other way. "So you won't start to get hungry yourself, and there shouldn't be any marks."

"Are you alright?" the human asked, as though she hadn't said anything at all. "Do you feel stronger?"

"…I'll be fine," Marceline said after a while, casting her red eyes back to look at Finn. There was no hurt on his face, only concern. _"He said that he could take it," _the vampire reflected. _"And he had told the truth."_

"Good," Finn said with his usual grin. "That's just math. Now come on, let's get going."

Marceline picked herself up, and after a small moment to collect her thoughts, floated up into the air, careful to keep hidden from the sunbeams streaming down through the holes in the walls. She watched her human friend march on up the steps, head loose and alert, and she wondered again about the kinds of things he keeps hidden, out of sight, out of mind.


End file.
